Goya's Ghosts seems unfocused

August 24, 2007|By Gene Seymour Newsday

The capricious, often cruel nature of justice - or, more precisely, injustice - has been a constant theme in the movies of Milos Forman. Whether in a psychiatric ward (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), an Austrian imperial court (Amadeus) or in an American courtroom (The People vs. Larry Flynt), Forman's artistry always seems aroused, if not angered, by the seeming arbitrariness of judgment imposed upon human beings, whether by other human beings or by destiny.

Given this history, it's only natural to expect great things from Forman when he takes on the Spanish Inquisition - and to be let down when those expectations fall short.

Yet, as flawed as Forman's Goya's Ghosts is, it's still possible to admire its attempt at becoming that cheeky cinematic rarity: an absurdist costume epic.

Set in the late 1700s, the story focuses on three characters: the painter Francisco de Goya (Stellen SkarsgM-erd), who's somehow able to paint and draw anything he wants despite the looming threat of torture and imprisonment by the Inquisition; Brother Lorenzo (Javier Bardem), a Catholic priest whose idealistic desire for a more humane world conflicts with his status as Inquisitor; and Ines Bilbatua (Natalie Portman), a merchant's daughter who is Goya's teen muse and later is tortured into confessing a heresy she did not commit.

Lorenzo is humiliated into interceding on her behalf - but, much later, denies having ever known her. By that time, Spain has been conquered by Napoleon, Goya has become totally deaf and Bilbatua has finally been freed from captivity - mentally distraught and searching for a daughter she had while in prison.

The problem with Goya's Ghosts lies in its conception of Goya himself, who is depicted as being both a blithe suck-up and embittered moralist. The movie doesn't seem to know how to handle such ambivalence and, despite the hard work put forth on both sides of the camera, the story congeals and ultimately loses its focus. Too bad.